


An Apprentice After

by innocent_until_proven_geeky



Series: Kit Fisto's Apprentice [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Insert (kinda), Star Wars AU, star wars ocs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innocent_until_proven_geeky/pseuds/innocent_until_proven_geeky
Summary: A combination of post-Order 66 (present) and flashbacks to Niltaax's training as a Jedi Padawan.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Niltaax (OC) & Ahsoka Tano, Niltaax (OC) & Aspect (OC), Niltaax (OC) & CT-7567 | Rex, Niltaax (OC) & Kit Fisto
Series: Kit Fisto's Apprentice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580440
Kudos: 8





	1. A New Day

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I'm kinda sad I have to write this but I know there are some corners of the internet that, for some heaven-forsaken reason, hate the existence of self-inserts? If you're one of those people, I don't know how you got here, but you might as well go away, because that's essentially what this is. Niltaax is technically an OC but really she's meant as my way of being part of the story. Also, I know I love writing self-inserts but I hate reading them, so if you find that you're not enjoying this as much as you thought you would, I won't be offended.  
> If you do enjoy this story, congratulations and also thank you! I'm very excited about it, this is my first time writing since I started obsessing over the Clone Wars again and I hope that you get the feels from this that I do. All my love!

**Agamar**

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that my entire body hurts.

There's a ringing in my ears.

I open my eyes, but my vision is blurred.

My entire body _hurts_.

I don't really remember what happened, but I have to guess that it should have killed me. That perhaps I'm only alive due to my connection with the Force, even.

I focus on my body, on my hands and feet, arms and legs. Can I move? I think I just wiggled my toes; in my defense, I can barely see and I haven't tried lifting my head.

I get a brief flash of memory, so short and quick that the only thing I really understand from it is that whatever happened not only _should_ have killed me, but was meant--designed--to kill me.

In a panic, I fight to sit up, but a hand gently pushes me back to lying down. The hand is warm, strong, and familiar, but it is also wrong. It is not Master Fisto's.

I open my eyes again and blink the blurriness out of them. I was right. It is not Master Fisto; it's Captain Aspect, one of our clone troopers.

"Settle down, sir," he says, firm enough that he leaves me no room to argue and gentle enough that he leaves me no desire to. "I'm surprised you're awake so soon. For a few days there, I wasn't even sure you were going to make it."

I bite my lip as I process what he just said. A few... days? I hadn't been available to help Master Fisto for multiple _days_?

"How long was I out, Captain?" I ask, trying to gather information at the same time as I try to release my fear. I know from experience that doing these two things at once doesn't do much for me at all, but I'm trying to make up for what seems to be a lot of lost time.

He thinks about it for a moment. "A week and a half, I think. I'm... not entirely sure, sir. I've been keeping track of time in sleep cycles rather than with our tools or by rotations. Neither of those options seems safe right now."

"Why, Captain?" I try to sit up again, this time to take in my surroundings.

We're in a cave of some sort, or a tunnel--either way, we're deep inside, and I can't see the entrance. I'm lying next to a crackling fire that looks like it's fighting to stay alive and is creating more shadows than it is illuminating my surroundings. On my other side is Aspect, looking at me with emotions I don't know if I've ever seen from him--fear, sadness, and some sort of barely-hidden anger.

He doesn't try to keep me lying down again. My pain and weakness do that for him in a few moments anyway.

Aspect doesn't answer for a long moment, as if he's trying to decide the best way to explain this to me. I may be a Jedi, but I am a Jedi Padawan, and I'm still young. I know a lot of Fisto and my men constantly take that into consideration on the battlefield, and Aspect may well be doing that here.

Finally, he decides on something. "We can't risk being tracked, sir. You're in danger, and it is my duty to protect you and keep you safe until the danger has passed."

Vague and protective. Just as much as I need to know for right now.

"And what about Master Fisto? Does he know where we are? Does he even know I'm with you? Does he--?"

"He... doesn't know. I'm sorry, Niltaax." Aspect rarely uses my name when addressing me--ordinarily, he calls me "sir" or "Commander Srammetyw". Immediately I can tell that there's more going on here than he wants me to know. "I didn't have time to tell him anything other than that you were hurt and I was going to take you with me. He doesn't know where we are."

I hum to accept his answer and close my eyes again, trying to focus on my connection to Master Fisto. I'm very weak; I doubt I've had much nutrition since Aspect brought me to this place, as there is almost no medical equipment that I can see and I was unconscious for that time, and whatever injuries I've sustained are not helping that in any way. But I have to communicate with Master Fisto if I can. I need to know if he needs me. I need him to know that I'm okay.

Aspect misunderstands my intentions in closing my eyes, and hums now himself. "Yes, rest now, little one," he says, so quietly I can barely hear him. I almost wonder if he genuinely means that for me, or if he's saying it more to reassure himself. "Hopefully, tomorrow will be kinder."


	2. The Trial

**Ilum**

When I was young, I was brought to the Jedi by Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. Unsurprisingly, I remembered him better than my family on my homeworld, as I saw him often in the Jedi temple on Coruscant after that.

Life as a youngling was uneventful; I became a padawan shortly before the Clone Wars began, so the most exciting things that happened were my Initiate Trials.

I dreaded going to Ilum to harvest a kyber crystal and craft my own lightsaber. I, frankly, was not looking forward to a potentially dangerous adventure. But after passing the trials that took place before the Gathering, I had to go, and I did.

To be fair, I didn’t know exactly what was happening until it was happening. I just knew we were leaving Coruscant, and to me, Coruscant was safety.

Ilum was cold. When we landed, the seven of us who were on our ship put on thick coats; I still shivered.

“You will go into this cave and find and harvest your crystals. Trust yourself. Trust the Force; it will guide you. Be patient, but be quick. Once this door freezes over, you’ll be trapped in the cave for one rotation.”

Tu’ebb, a fellow initiate from my clan, smirked. “One rotation? I’m sure we’ll survive.”

Master Yoda, who was there as well as a sort of guide for us, hummed. “Nineteen days, one rotation is, youngling.” He seemed to hide a smile from us, though, as we all turned to each other with renewed determination--or, in my case, renewed fear.

“It might be a good idea to get started, younglings,” our padawan guide suggested, nudging us forward. “The longer you wait, the later you’ll get back.”

The funny thing about apprehension is that you don’t want to fail, and you don’t want to get stuck, but you don’t really want to start, either. I shivered, more from my anxiety this time than from the cold, and hung behind the other initiates as we entered the cave.

Though dim, it was beautiful. The ice glittered and shone. _If I weren’t so cold, I could live here_ , I thought.

“Hey, Niltaax. Keep up!” Tu’ebb was several feet ahead of me. Without realizing it, I had stopped just inside the entrance, admiring the sparkling walls and ceiling of the cave.

“Coming, Tu’ebb!” I called back. I ran to catch up with the group, who were all admiring the cave while still walking. Smart of them.

But eventually, I found myself hanging back again. The cave was getting darker as we got deeper, and although we could still see, I was worried I’d find myself going in circles. Only one initiate, a Nautolan named Donedi, stayed with me.

“Maybe your instincts are telling you that your crystal isn’t as far into the cave as the others’,” she suggested to me. “I feel like my crystal is deeper in the cave than where we are now, but a different direction from here a junction or two ago. I’ll stay with you if you’ll stay with me.”

I didn’t know Donedi very well; though we grew up together, as most clans of younglings do, I was rather anxious of befriending anyone, and Tu’ebb was the only one who made any effort to bring down my emotional walls and befriend _me_ instead. I wasn’t expecting this kind of loyalty from an acquaintance and not a friend, but Tu’ebb was far ahead of us at this point and I was convinced I couldn’t do this alone. So I turned to her and held out my hand.

“Okay, Donedi. I’ll stay with you, and you’ll stay with me. The Force will be with us.”

She squealed, excited, and shook my hand before clapping her own and jumping. “I’m so excited! You’re so smart, and Tu’ebb talks so highly of you. We’ll help each other. We can be best friends!”

I couldn’t decide if her enthusiasm was endearing or off-putting; regardless, it seemed I was a little bit stuck with her until we got out of the cave and there were more people around.

It seemed Donedi was right. Although I thought I was hanging back out of fear, it only took about an hour more of walking before I started to feel _something_ , tugging at my heart and my Force. I told her as such.

“Where do you think it’s coming from?” she whispered, trying not to distract me from this feeling.

I paused, trying to focus. I always had trouble with being too hot or too cold, and I had a hard time reaching out far enough to find where the Force was guiding me before I got too distracted by a shiver. But after a few minutes, I was able to focus deep enough.

“That direction,” I said, pointing to our left. There was nothing to our left, and we were nowhere near a junction. I groaned. “I thought.”

“Maybe there’s a secret door!” Donedi suggested.

“In an ice cave?”

“Yeah!”

I didn’t want to turn down her idea after she was being so kind to me, but it seemed a little ridiculous. Nevertheless, I reached out again with the Force as I turned toward the wall.

Nothing happened.

“Let’s try working together,” she demanded, and I felt her Force strengthening me as I tried again.

Again, there was no visible change to the wall; no kyber crystal came flying into my hand. But this time, I thought I heard a rumble.

“I’m not sure what we’re doing, Donedi, but I think it’s working.”

“Of course it is,” she giggled. “You know something about yourself? You’re strong in the Force, possibly stronger than any of the rest of our clan, but you’re so anxious that I don’t think you’ve ever really tried to use the Force to your full potential.”

It was the first time I heard that, and though I disagreed at the time, it turned out that Donedi’s words were very wise; it would not be the last time I was told the same thing.

“If you say so,” I mumbled, but I decided to try one more time. I wasn’t sure how to reach out more with the Force. Did I reach out further? Did I put more energy and strength behind it?

“Stop overthinking it, Niltaax. You can do this!”

So I did. I reached out, and I felt Donedi supporting me. I reached out, and I heard the cavern rumble again. I reached out, and the ice wall in front of us collapsed.

The shockwave, though small, knocked both of us onto our backs. We looked at each other, and Donedi burst into laughter; after a moment, I did too.

It took us a long while to compose ourselves. Every time one of us did, we looked at the other and laughed again. For the first time, I was truly enjoying myself and my abilities, and I was grateful that the moment took so long to end. But finally, I stood up, dusted the ice off my thick fur coat, and helped Donedi stand. Then I turned back to what had once been a sheer wall of frozen water.

“There’s a secret room!” Donedi exclaimed. I turned to her, confused at her surprise; wasn’t she the one who suggested that there might be a secret door? “I was expecting a wall of crystals behind the wall of ice,” she explained at my inquisitive look. “Not a whole room!”

“Well, let’s search it,” I suggested. “My crystal is in here somewhere, I can feel it. I can kind of see it!”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged, unsure how to explain. “There’s something bright in there. Not bright enough to light up the whole room, but bright enough that I can see it. I can see it, and nothing else. I think it’s my crystal.” My apprehension all but disappeared, and I ventured confidently into the darkness.

Getting to my crystal was easy; I just followed the bright spot until I could reach out and touch it. After harvesting my crystal, however, the room plunged into a deep blackness, and my fear returned. I spun around, hoping to see Donedi and the entrance we had created, but I saw nothing.

“Donedi!” I cried out, terrified and alone.

“What’s wrong?” she called back. Her voice seemed faint, but was echoed by the vaulted ceilings of the room.

“The crystal isn’t glowing anymore! I can’t see! How will I know I’m going in the right direction?”

Donedi was quiet for a long time, and I worried that I had somehow wandered farther from her and couldn’t hear her anymore. Though that was rather illogical, as I hadn’t actually moved my body at all, the worry began consuming me. I began breathing heavily, in a panic, when I heard footsteps coming toward me and Donedi’s voice.

“I followed your Force signature,” she explained. Without discussing it, and barely able to see each other, we reached out and grasped each other’s hands. “If I follow the Force guiding me to my crystal, we should be able to get out of here and into a place where our eyes are a little better adjusted.”

I still breathed heavily, afraid and high on adrenaline, but Donedi’s presence was undeniably comforting. She so obviously cared for me and wanted me safe, and it was easy to trust her despite not being very close. I let her pull me toward the entrance to the room, trying to control my breathing as Master Yoda and Master Kenobi, an expert in meditation, had taught us.

  
**Agamar**

The next time I wake up, I can sit. Aspect is next to me again, and our small fire from before is now a pile of smoldering embers.

“Can you see anything?” I ask him as he sits me up and turns me around gently so my left shoulder is facing him.

He starts unwrapping bandages around my shoulder, but after a moment finally grunts out, “No. I can’t. Can you hold this for me?” He puts my lightsaber in my hand, and I ignite it so he has a little more light to work by.

As he finishes unwrapping my shoulder, I reach out to Donedi. When those of our clan who were chosen as padawans met our masters, we decided together to uphold the clan bonds we had developed through the Force.

I can’t find Donedi.

Aspect rewraps my shoulder.

“Captain, do you know at all where Commander Donedi Zenorvemt is currently stationed?” I ask. If she’s too far away, I won’t be able to reach out to her.

Aspect hesitates before answering. “Um… no, sir. I don’t know where Commander Zernorvemt is.”


	3. Order 66

**Agamar**

I sit up slowly, the left side of my body still in pain. Although the pain was pretty all-encompassing the first few days, the worst injury is clearly on my left shoulder--although Aspect refuses to let me look at it.

I understand trauma. I’ve been at war. I’m young, I know, younger and less mature than Aspect, but I’ve seen injuries before. I know what the aftermath of a blaster bolt looks like. I wonder if his refusal to let me look is more for his comfort than for mine, a way for him to sort of… protect me.

The fire died a day ago, and Aspect hasn’t risked going out for more fuel, so it’s completely dark in the cave. By his breathing, though, I can tell he’s still asleep. Maybe if I’m quiet, I’ll be able to stand without waking him. I don’t want to worry the man, but it’s cold and dark and we’re running low on food and water, too. I know it’s a poor idea for me to get up and go out right now, being injured, but if Aspect refuses to leave my side when he’s awake, I’ll have to leave his while he’s asleep.

I take in a deep breath, expecting this to hurt. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I think as a result of one injury (I’m assuming a blaster wound), I fell hard and injured myself further. I push myself upward and wince at the pain in my shoulder, pausing to listen to Aspect and make sure I can actually do this. And then I continue upward, shaking a little, until I’m fully standing. I can barely feel my mussed hair brushing the ceiling of the cave, the slightest tickle on the top of my scalp. I give a slight involuntary shiver. The poor captain was so much taller than I, he must be in horrible pain from not straightening out for the last two weeks except to lie down. If only I could convince him to actually go out and get us water.

I contemplate igniting my lightsaber. It will provide enough light to see the ground in front of me, and to dig through our supplies for a spare rations bar while I look for more substantial nutrition, but lightsabers aren’t really quiet, and I know my clone troopers, especially Aspect, to be light sleepers, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

Regretfully, I turn to the wall of the cave and, trailing my hand along it, testing the ground with each foot before stepping as silently as possible (which, as a Jedi, is rather silent), I follow it to the entrance of the cave.

I shiver. It’s nighttime on the planet’s surface, and as I step out into the open air, I hear the ground crunch beneath me. Frost. It’s cold out here, then, too.

The fresh air is soothing to me. The cave smells of smoke and body odor, and the air is stuffy despite being cold. Out here, it smells of water and rock and ozone. It smells natural. My fingers tingle with the Force’s energy, and the buzz continues, filling my body. I laugh to myself, mirthful. Was I really that disconnected from the Force just from being in a cave?

Almost subconsciously, I reach for my lightsaber and ignite it. The soft, yellow light illuminates the world in front of me. It’s mostly rock and thin layers of snow and frost, but I know there has to be a source of fuel somewhere nearby. Aspect couldn’t have lit our first fire if there wasn’t.

The shuttle we landed in must be close, too. Aspect couldn’t have carried me far to that cave. He’s strong and capable, but I know he was exhausted too, having just gotten me out of battle and flown from Coruscant, apparently alone. I turn slowly, but the light of my blade doesn’t reach far enough to see the shuttle. I’ll have to wait until morning. I don’t want to get lost or get hurt trying to help Aspect and myself.

I turn back to the entrance of the cave and jump. I never heard or sensed him, but Aspect is standing against the opening, arms crossed, looking less than amused. Despite our military rankings, he has the effect of a general on me:I always have to avert my gaze when I know I have done something out of line.

“Good to see you up and about,” he says dryly, beckoning to me.

As he turns, I follow him back into the stuffy, cold cave, my lightsaber’s illumination the only difference this time.

When we reach our small campsite, he rounds on me with a ferocity I don’t know that I’ve ever seen from him, especially not directed to our own. “Are you crazy, Niltaax?” he asks, clearly trying to keep his voice level. “What if someone had seen you?”

I’m not sure how to answer. On the one hand, Agamar is a barren and deserted planet, and I rather feel the desire to tell him so. On the other, I struggle to accept criticism and anger from others. Tears prick my eyes even as I go with a sardonic, “On Agamar?”

Aspect shakes his head violently. “Even on Agamar. Maybe especially on Agamar! I don’t know where they’re looking for you or even if they are still looking for you. They may have given up on the inhabited planets and decided to come here instead. And you would have led them straight to us!” He’s yelling now, and his energy is dark and despairing.

Hot tears make their way down my cheeks and I turn away from him for a moment, trying not to let him see me cry. I hate arguing. It’s so much more emotional than meditating, or practicing katas with Master Fisto, or even fighting in battle, because in battle if you don’t have your wits about you you’re doomed whether you know how to fight or not. I try not to sniff despite my growing inability to breathe past the congestion that always comes with crying, and have to breathe through my mouth for several moments as I try to get it together and accept his criticism. I know I shouldn’t be bothered by it. He means well, everyone always does. But my natural reaction is frustration and upset and I haven’t yet learned how to curb it.

In a few moments he’s embracing me, though. He’s holding on to me, stroking my hair shushing me. He pulls me down to sit on my bedroll. It doesn’t take long, then, for the tears to stop.

“I’m sorry, sir. It isn’t my place to speak out against you. I’m just concerned for your well-being.”

I pull away from him, gentle so he understands I’m not angry. “Why, Captain?”

He shakes his head and sighs. He doesn’t want to explain it.

“The longer we avoid this, the better I get, the harder it will be for me to understand why you haven’t let me outside or gone out yourself. We need food, water, fuel for the fire. I miss my master and I can’t feel him or our bond. I’m--” I hesitate. This is not something a Jedi admits, I have been taught, or should really even feel. “I’m afraid, Aspect, and I need you to explain to me why I am.”

I see the tears in his own eyes now and I almost regret asking him, almost apologize. But then he visibly steels himself, and it’s like his eyes were never watery.

“In order for you to fully understand, I have to go back more than a year, standard. I have a friend, a brother from the five-oh-first. Captain Rex.”

I know Captain Rex. A friend of mine, a former fellow padawan named Ahsoka, worked closely with him before a scandal that influenced her to leave the Jedi Order, the way I work with Aspect. I nod for my own captain to continue.

“A couple of his men, they got into some trouble. One of them killed a Jedi, executed her in the middle of a mission.” He looks at me to gauge my reaction, but I already know about the death of Tiplar. “They thought he had a breakdown, or a virus. He was sent back to Kamino for observation, and another brother was sent back with him. Can’t remember why. Probably didn’t trust the Kaminoans--they may have created us and raised us, but few of the vode would trust them as far as we could throw them.

“Well, the Kaminoans insisted that this brother who executed the Jedi had a virus, but the other brother didn’t think so. He did some digging and found a chip that he thought caused the first brother to go rogue. It had rotted, I guess. He found the same chip in his own brain, and in the brains of several of the youngest brothers. The ones who were still embryos. So he took out the chip and told his captain.

“He died after that. Apparently, he attacked the… the Chancellor. But Captain Rex got together with a few of us brothers who were all from the same batch together, and he told us about it and what he thought. We decided we would all remove our chips. We trust each other more than the Kaminoans, but I already said that.” He chuckles darkly, almost to himself. “We managed to reprogram a medical droid to convince it to do the procedure, and then each of us had our chips removed.

“Well, fast forward to our situation on Coruscant. You remember, we were getting ready to go on that mission to Kebolar.” He looks at me again, and I nod. Loading our ship for the mission to Kebolar is the last memory I have before waking up on Agamar, and even then it’s fuzzy. “General Fisto got called away shortly before we were meant to take off. So we were waiting for him. After about an hour, maybe, you got really upset. You were panicky and you seemed like you were in a lot of pain. You… you said something had happened to the general. Your bond was broken.”

I shudder. I have no memory of this. If our bond was broken while we were on Coruscant, either Master Fisto broke it intentionally, or…. No. That can’t be right. I don’t know why he would break our training bond on purpose, but that must be what happened.

“A few minutes later,” Aspect continues, dragging me back out of my thoughts, “we got this command from the Chancellor. He said that the Jedi had betrayed him. He told us to execute ‘Order Sixty-Six’. I didn’t recognize the order, but the rest of the men. They recognized it. Oh, they recognized it.” He has a far-off look, as if he’s forgotten he’s talking to someone. “They went into a trance. It was weird. I had never seen any of the vode like that, least of all my men. They took their weapons out and started firing on any Jedi in sight. Ink and Tag’onk both aimed at you. I couldn’t take them out. They were brothers! So I shot Ink’s blaster hand. But I was too late to get Tag’onk. He got you, right in that shoulder. You were on top of the ship, meditating, trying to make sure you were imagining that the General was… was gone, I guess. And when he hit you, you fell.

“I carried you to a shuttle and got out of there before any of the other men could notice. But I didn’t have time to save any of the other Jedi in the hangar, or to check on General Fisto. So we got out of there.

“While we were in hyperspace, I scrolled through some of the comm channels, trying to figure out what had happened. A few of my batchmates who had removed their chips with me, including Rex, were on a secure channel. Everyone else was just as confused as I was. All the vode, all the clones, everywhere, had turned on their Jedi, except for a few of us without the chips. That’s what they were for. That’s why, when that other clone’s malfunctioned, he killed one of the Jedi he was with.” Aspect’s voice cracks. He’s miserable. He doesn’t want to talk about the betrayal of his brothers. “Rex was at the Jedi Temple still. He followed the rest of his squad, but didn’t kill anyone. I asked him to check on General Fisto. He--” His voice cracks again. I almost ask him to stop, but before I can, he keeps going. “Fisto went to the Senate building to talk to the Chancellor about something. Rex found him in the Chancellor’s office. He was dead, Niltaax. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t react. Aspect clearly has more to say, and I don’t want to interrupt it. But inside, I’m screaming, grieving, suddenly exhausted. I can already tell that tonight is going to be a long night.

Aspect is clearly trying to make sure I’m okay. When I don’t respond at all, he continues, uncertain if this is the right course of action but feeling a desperate need to get the weight of his own pain off his chest. “Most of the Jedi are dead. A few of my batchmates were able to save their Jedi, but not all of them. Rex’s Jedi, General Skywalker, he turned.” He sneers the word. The clone troopers have a sense of duty to the Republic. Anyone who betrays them, including other troopers, gets much the same treatment. It’s the one thing capable of dividing the vode. “And then about an hour out from Agamar, everyone stopped talking. Not like they were hurt or dead. We just didn’t have anything else to say to each other.” He laughs darkly. “It’s been radio silent ever since. I think they’re all trying to keep their Jedi from being tracked, too. I don’t know about Rex.”

Though he’s already sitting down, Aspect visibly collapses in on himself when he finishes telling me his story. He’s tired, betrayed. The weight of all this has been too much for too long, all on his own.

I sigh. “Aspect, you should have told me as soon as I woke up.”

“I know, sir. You deserved to know that your master was dead. I shouldn’t have hid that from you.”

“No,” I correct gently. “I do wish I had known about Master Fisto sooner, because I, too, need time to grieve. I care--cared--for him deeply. But that’s not why you should have told me.” I reach for his hand, and he looks up at me, confused on two counts. The first is the physical comfort, which Jedi and clones alike are not known for. “You should have told me because you don’t deserve to carry this on your own. That’s a lot of betrayal, a lot of death. It’s too much for one person to bear without speaking.”

He smiles at me gratefully before withdrawing his hand. “I understand, sir. But I don’t think two people will make it much easier to bear.”

I nod. He has a point. We both have family to mourn. This will be difficult, alone in the wilderness with the added burden of our fear of discovery. Nevertheless, “We’ll be able to, Aspect. Now, it seems that the Grand Army of the Republic has fallen. Please, don’t call me sir. It never suited me.”

He laughs. It’s heavy, and sad, but it’s still a laugh. “Well, I can’t disobey a direct order.”  
I look at him disapprovingly, and he laughs again. The darkness that has always been at the edge of this war seems closer and more consuming now, but the joy of a friend, even shadowed by grief and anger as his is, lights up the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with Niltaax's lightsaber color because I took one of those (many) quizzes about "what would your lightsaber color be?" and I got yellow. If I had chosen myself I probably would have gone with blue because that's my favorite color, but yellow seemed kind of fitting because as a lightsaber color it's so much softer and more diffuse than the yellow that's popular right now, and so I rolled with it.


	4. Ahsoka Tano

**Agama**

After our talk, and after I promised to be careful about where I go on Agamar, when, and why, Aspect and I agreed that we desperately need food, water, and fuel for our fire.

The first few times we went out, we were together. We started by salvaging everything we could from the shuttle, and I mean everything. Right now it stands as little more than an abandoned scrap heap about a kilometer from our cave (Aspect has far greater endurance than I originally anticipated). Then we went to an old dead forest, where there is dried wood perfect for building and fueling fires. The forest is obviously left over from a landscape much more diverse than Agamar is now. I feel the Force there the way I feel it everywhere else outside the cave, but it’s sadder there, as though the Force itself is aware that there used to be life here and now there is just wood.

After building another fire, we started going out on our own, so that one of us can tend to the fire while the other gathers supplies. Aspect insisted I was still too weak to carry the large bucket full of frost and snow that we melt into water and then boil over the fire, so he went out first.

My arm, however, has healed plenty, and I’m willing to risk carrying the bucket myself. Aspect needs his rest.

It’s dark, but we started running low on water a little over one rotation ago and we need more. I shiver at the cold and pull my cloak closer around me with one arm, the other keeping a tight grip on the bucket. We’ve cleared out a sizeable area near our camp of frost and snow. If we continue in the same place much longer without a new snowfall, I worry we’ll make it obvious where we’re hiding. I venture out to where I know there will still be precious frozen water.

Agamar isn’t as cold as Ilum or some of the other planets I’ve been to, but without any proper gear for a chilly climate Aspect and I are still concerned about frostbite. So I work quickly, scraping up handfuls of snow and ice and dumping them unceremoniously into my bucket. My cloak comes loose and I shiver again. I think the cold is causing my shoulder wound to ache more than it already did, so I try to move faster than I already am.

In my haste, I fail to sense or hear a being coming up on me until they’re on top of me--literally. They land on my back and wrap their arms around my neck, not tight enough to strangle me but a firm hold nonetheless. The weight almost knocks me onto my face, and I use the momentum to throw them off. Immediately, before they can get the jump on me again, I unclip and ignite my lightsaber. I advance warily.

“Wait!” says a female voice.

I don’t see her beyond the light of my blade, still held defensively, but I hear the telltale click-hiss of another lightsaber igniting as I watch a blue blade spring to life. “You’re a Jedi.”

“Well, no,” says my attacker. “I was… a padawan. I left the Order a standard year ago.”

I thumb off my blade, hoping that by her light I’ll be able to see her better. She’s a Togruta, and she looks vaguely familiar. I tilt my head, trying to remember. She’s a year or two younger than I, but she definitely wasn’t in my clan at the Temple.

“I’m sorry I attacked you. I was worried you might be part of the Inquisition. You may think I wasn’t trying too hard, but I’m a little tired of death.”

“The Inquisition?” I ask. I don’t know how long it’s been since Aspect and I were in the loop, but it’s obviously been enough time for significant changes to be made. Big enough changes to reach other Jedi. Are there any other Jedi, besides this Togruta and myself? If there are, do we call ourselves Jedi anymore?

“They’re trying to purge the galaxy of Jedi,” she explains. “I got away because I was with a captain who removed the chip that caused the clone army to execute us. He protected me. He’s a good friend. We’ve been on the run ever since, never staying in one place for more than a few days, searching for other Jedi or clones who removed their chips.” Her face darkens. “But I fear my… my former master may be finding others of us faster than Rex and I are.”

I’m not sure how to respond to the wave of guilt I feel wash over her through the Force, so instead I focus on the last thing she said. “You’re with Captain Rex?” I confirm.

She nods. “Yeah, why?”

“My captain was his batchmate,” I tell her, turning. “I’ll be right back!”

I don’t realize how out of shape I am until I’m sprinting. I reason that it’s because it’s been a while since I was able to do much of anything, especially running, but it doesn’t make the burning in my lungs or the tightness in my throat any more comfortable. Thankfully, although we’ve cleared a large section of snow and ice, it’s a circle with the cave near the center. I could be running a lot farther than I am.

I reach the opening of the cave and lean against it, the sound of my panting heavy and loud in my ears.

Aspect is already there, waiting for me, rather than at our camp farther inside. He stands up, alarmed. “Are you alright, Commander?”

I don’t correct his use of my former rank, only nod. “Rex is here.”

And then he’s running back the way I came, and I have to sprint after him, and it’s more exhausting the second time around. Although I can’t say I’m enjoying running while out of shape, I relish the feeling of strengthening myself after so many--days? weeks?--of inactivity.

In less than a minute, we’ve reached the Togruta again. “You must be her captain,” she says to Aspect, nodding in my direction. Her arms are crossed, her lightsaber clipped back on her side, and she has her weight leaning on one leg. The position is familiar somehow. “I’m Ahsoka Tano.”

 _Oh_. I know of Ahsoka. I’ve never truly interacted with her, but she was Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan, and she left the order after our mutual friend Barriss framed her for murdering a suspect in the Jedi Temple bombing.

Aspect reaches out to shake her hand. “I’m Captain Aspect. This is Niltaax. I guess she didn’t tell you her name, did she?”

Ahsoka doesn’t respond, but the corner of her mouth twitches upward. “Pleased to meet you. Come with me. There’s someone I’m sure you want to see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna say I have like... a plot outlined, but I do have _ideas_ and this was a big one.


	5. Vod'ika

**Agamar**

We walk for almost an hour in near darkness. Ahsoka has a slight limp; I hope I didn’t do that. We can see very little, as she’s turned off her lightsaber. “To avoid being seen,” she explained.

We twist and turn and double back on ourselves, and occasionally Ahsoka has us stop so she can use the Force to wipe out our tracks. If we were to walk directly to her camp, I wonder if it would take even half as long.

My core temperature is warm from the exercise, but my skin is cold and my fingers are going numb. I envy Ahsoka her preparedness, a thick fur-lined coat and gloves, and Aspect his climate-controlled armor. The cave was never truly warm, except by the fire, but this is cold.

“Not to sound like a youngling on her first trip into space,” I whisper, “but how much farther? I’m freezing.”

I hear Aspect stifle a laugh from behind me, and I see Ahsoka’s shoulders shake. I didn’t mean for it to be a joke, but if I can lighten up the mood I’ll take it.

“A few minutes,” Ahsoka says over her shoulder. “We’re actually getting into comm range now.”

“Comms?” Aspect asks, almost a rhetorical question. “We haven’t dared to use comms. They can be tracked.”

“Rex is better with technology than people take him for,” Ahsoka tells us. Apparently she thinks that’s an explanation, because she doesn’t wait for either of us to protest further before activating the comm link on her wrist. “Rex, it’s me. I’m back in range, and I brought friends.”

“Friends?” The voice, crackly over the strained channel of the comm, is like Aspect’s but not. It doesn’t carry quite the same pain Aspect’s voice always has, the pain I feel and hear even more now than I used to. Obviously, this is Rex.

“A Jedi,” Ahsoka explains. Then she hesitates and looks behind her, at us. “And a brother.”

Rex doesn’t answer for a long moment. I don’t know how, but I know he’s thinking through the mental list of fellow clones who removed their inhibitor chips and wouldn’t have killed their Jedi. Then he tells her, “Well, don’t scare me like that again, Ahsoka. You’ve been out of contact for nearly five hours, then just tell me we have friends. I was worried.”

Somehow, Ahsoka relaxes at the reprimand. “Of course, Rex,” she says. “We’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t wait up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” He’s… laughing. I can’t honestly say I was expecting that, but when I turn to Aspect, my own captain is simply nodding and smiling, as if this is normal and expected behavior for Rex.

I process the last few statements in my head. Rex and Ahsoka were both joking, right? Rex can’t possibly fall asleep in five minutes.

Aspect nudges me before saying, almost as if he read my mind, “They were joking, kid.”

I turn to him and give what I hope is a grateful smile and follow Ahsoka as she turns us around again, this time directly toward a well-hidden and hazily lit cave. Five minutes of walking seems like an odd amount of time, but then I realize that the cave is huge and deep. It could easily be another five minutes before we reach the source of the light, which must be brighter than the cavern’s maw is letting on. A ship, then, or at least a shuttle, with plenty of power.

When we reach the ship, and it is a ship--a light freighter, though my knowledge of exactly what light freighter is limited at best--I have to adjust to the light before I see him. Rex looks exactly like Aspect, and although all clones look exactly like Aspect, there’s something about them being batchmates that makes them even more similar. Still, I know I’ll be able to tell them apart easily, even without the two different shades of blue on their armor. Rex’s is painted with an almost royal blue color, while Aspect’s is what Master Fisto once referred to as “the color of Glee Anselm’s oceans”. It’s lighter, with more green in it.

Rex stands up to greet us. He clasps hands with Ahsoka and they embrace briefly, and then he nods to me. But he throws his arms around Aspect and nearly shouts, “Vod’ika! It’s so good to see you!”

Wrapped in Rex’s arms, I almost miss Aspect’s face crumpling. He puts his own arms up and around Rex, and then he cries. Aspect has always had a tender heart, even more willing to help people than the other clones--which is saying a lot, because despite efforts by the Kaminoans to make them care most about orders, the clones truly care about _people_ \--and more concerned about his men and his superiors (which is, again, saying quite a lot), but I’ve never seen him cry. It’s jarring, and for a moment I don’t even understand why. Then Ahsoka gestures that we should enter the ship, and I follow her, and I remember.

“Is he okay?” she asks. We’re walking down a corridor that I’m sure leads to cabins. I’m not sure how she and Rex got this ship, as it doesn’t seem like Republic-issue. It’s not a _Venator_ -class destroyer, for sure.

“No,” I reply, taking in my surroundings so as not to get lost in the future. “He had to choose between me and two of his brothers that night.” I know she’s aware of exactly what night I’m referring to. “He chose me. He had to shoot down our men in order to save me, and then fly us out of there. He’s not okay. He probably won’t be okay for a while.”

She turns to me and grimaces, and in the light of the ship I see her face clearly for the first time. Her skin is orange, a stark contrast to blue eyes, and she has white markings on her face. Her lekku and montrals are white, with similar blue markings almost like stripes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad he made that choice.”

I scoff, not to be rude but because truly laughing just doesn’t feel right. “We’ve had to say and do a lot of things we never believed we would a few weeks ago.” Inside, however, I feel pain at her statement. “I’m glad, too, but I’m not glad he lost brothers. And I feel almost guilty that he had to kill them for me.”

“Don’t,” she says gently. “I know it’s hard. We’re trained to be compassionate. Despite the public and Kaminoan view of our men as expendable clones, even droidlike, we know they’re not. They’re linked with the living Force. They’re individuals. And as glad as I am to have found another Jedi, as grateful as I am that he chose you, it’s hard for him and for all of us. And I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do, but I still know you shouldn’t. So, as much as possible, don’t.” She gives me a small, pained smile. “It can’t help.”

I don’t say anything, just nod, trying to ignore the tears I haven’t allowed for weeks that are now pricking my eyes. There’s a sense of relief, having found Ahsoka and Rex, a sense that I can be vulnerable for a few short minutes here, and I can feel myself reacting to it even though I don’t know that I’m ready yet. I know that she understands, though, because she nods back and then turns toward the cabins.

“This freighter was equipped for people to live on it,” Ahsoka explains. “There are several cabins, so take your pick. There’s also a gym belowdecks that Rex and I have talked about converting at least in part into a training salle. It’s really meant to be home for people who spend a lot of time in deep space and hyperspace, so….” She trails off. She doesn’t want to say that we’ll be living in space for the foreseeable future, but the fact is that’s the safest option for us.

I shrug and turn to the third cabin on the left. Its position reminds me a little of my quarters in the Jedi Temple, so it feels natural for me. Before opening the door, I look at Ahsoka. I hope she understands my silent question-- _is this one available_? When she nods, I press the button that activates the door and step inside.

The cabin is cozy, not too small but designed for sleeping and personal storage and not much else. There are two bunks, one on the left wall and one on the right rather than stacked on top of each other, and two bureaus. There’s a door on the far wall that leads to what I assume is a private ‘fresher, and no closet. This ship is nice, meant for the finest crews. I’m again struck by the question of how Ahsoka and Rex could have acquired such a vessel. A story for another time, I’m sure.

Ahsoka places her hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have much, do you?” she asks. “We’ll get some more clothing at our next inhabited planet. I’m sure it’ll be nice not to have to wear the same tunic every day for five weeks.”

So it’s been five weeks. That’s, frankly, longer than I thought, but then I haven’t had any way of telling time on Agamar, especially without knowing the length of its rotations versus the length of a standard day.

“Come on,” she continues. “I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the ship.”

As we make our way to the bridge, we run into Rex and Aspect, who have come aboard without either of us knowing. Aspect’s face is red, his eyes puffy, but he’s stopped crying and is clearly trying to look composed. At least he lights up again when he sees me.

“Vod,” he says, addressing Rex, “this is Niltaax, my commander.”

I reach out to shake his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Rex. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And you, Commander.” He has a firm grip, which somehow relaxes me. I can feel his confidence through the Force. Then he releases my hand and puts his hand on the back of his neck, almost like he’s ashamed or embarrassed. “Sorry. Niltaax. There isn’t really a Grand Army in which you’re a commander, is there?”

I smile, and I can feel that it’s a little crooked. “I never liked being called ‘commander’ anyway,” I tell him. “It never really suited me. It’s a title that belongs to soldiers, warriors--not to peacekeepers.” I shrug. “But then, I guess I had to be a little of both.”

“Vod’ika,” Rex says, turning to Aspect. “You never told me she was wise.”

“Of course she is, di’kut,” Aspect replies. He uses “di’kut” affectionately, and I stifle a laugh. “She’s a Jedi.”

“I don’t know,” Rex retorts, and I can hear the teasing in his voice as he looks up at Ahsoka. “My Jedi isn’t very wise.”

Ahsoka reaches out and punches his arm playfully, though I can’t imagine it’s comfortable with the armor he’s wearing. She’s grinning, and for a moment it feels like all will be right again in the world, and soon. All we needed was to find a brother and a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know where to find translations for Mando'a (it took me a solid month of obsessing over Obitine/the Clone Wars in general to find a Mando'a-English dictionary, so I feel you), here are translations of the Mando'a in this chapter. I'll probably be using these words especially a lot, so it's important to me that you know what they mean :)  
>  **vod** :brother, comrade  
>  **vod'ika** :little brother  
>  **di'kut** :idiot, literally "someone who forgets to put their pants on" (I thought this one was meant to just be an insult but a Legends book I was reading uses it affectionately, as well, so I decided to let the vode have a little fun)


	6. Padawans, Two Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this chapter was already written by the time I wrote Chapter 5, so it was really easy to upload this one right away. Updates probably won't happen this quickly very often, but I'm on a roll right now. Enjoy!

**Agamar**

All is not right. Not even a little bit.

After Ahsoka showed me around the freighter, and got my opinion about turning the gym into a training salle, and after Rex showed Aspect around the ship and Aspect chose a cabin, the four of us met on the bridge. It’s both a control deck and a communal living area, again designed for people who spend most of their time in space. There’s a dejarik table near the door with a set of cushioned seats next to it, and a card table that folds into the wall. Rex pulled it out for us to play a friendly game of sabacc, and we swiveled the seats around from the dejarik table.

Now, the cards lay all but forgotten on the folding table.

“I can’t believe you don’t want to stay to search for other survivors!” I exclaim.

Ahsoka groans, not for the first time. “We can’t stay anywhere for too long! If we do, we could be tracked. We could be caught. We could _die_!”

“As if that’s a new risk for us.” I fold my arms across my chest. “We have to help anyone we can. We can’t abandon anyone else on this planet!”

“And what if we get captured?” Ahsoka retorts. “Then aren’t we abandoning the Jedi on other planets?”

I feel the tension in my body, in my throat. I don’t want to argue, but I want to yell. I don’t. “If you found me, that means this is a safe enough place for Jedi to survive! It means we can stay here a little longer. We could help so many!”

“And if there _isn’t_ anyone here?”

I breathe heavily. “But there might be!”

“I didn’t feel anyone else’s presence here when Rex and I landed. The only reason we stayed so long was because I felt yours!”

“I didn’t even _feel_ your presence when you landed,” I shoot back. I decide to ignore the fact that it was because most of my energy in the Force was spent on doing what I could to heal my arm on my own. “The Force is so dark and twisted and confused right now. There could be anyone here!”

“Including the Inquisitors.”

I sigh. I don’t want to concede, but I realize she does have a point. A very good one. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’d be abandoning my duty, if not a person--a living, breathing person. I wish Master Fisto were here. He would know what the best course of action. “Okay,” I say after a long pause. “Okay. We can leave. It’s your ship.” I leave, my head full and foggy. I’m not prone to anger or arguments, not nearly as much as I was as a young apprentice. I forgot how much it pains me, how far it makes me feel from the Force and from my friends.

I walk down the corridor to my cabin, trailing my hand along the bulkheads. I memorize where the seams are, a calming exercise my master taught me on our first mission offworld. When I reach the door and open it, I’m momentarily surprised to see quarters that are not _mine_. When I was with Master Fisto, my quarters at the Temple and on our flagship were sparsely decorated, as is normal for Jedi, but so very clearly mine. This cabin is sterile, the sheets on both bunks white, everything harsh metal with nothing on the wall, nothing in the drawers. In a way, it’s wrong.

I huff and choose a bunk. I don’t have to share with anyone, at least not yet, so I can just pick. I sit on the one to the left of the door and lean back against the bulkhead so that I’m looking at the door to the refresher. I cross my legs, cross my arms, close my eyes. It’s not an official, normal meditation. It’s not really my goal, anyway. Still, I find myself slipping into some form of subconsciousness before being jolted back out of it by a knock on the door, then a hiss as it opens.

“You have to understand something about Ahsoka,” Rex says, coming in to sit on the bunk across from me without waiting for permission. Not that I care about permission, really, considering I don’t have much privacy to keep right now. “You both lost the Jedi, your people, your way of life overnight. But she lost them twice. She used to be a little reckless, and it got her into trouble. But she’s lost everything, and I think that, in part, she blames herself.”

I can’t tell where this is going, but I nod along, hoping to display some level of interest in what Rex has to say.

“She started following orders better when she joined us in battle after leaving the Order. And one of the last orders she got was to keep moving.”

I hum my understanding. “I didn’t realize it was an order.”

Rex tilts his head. “Well, maybe not an order. But that’s how she interpreted it, and still does. She has quite a lot of trust for Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

I can’t help the way my eyes widen at Obi-Wan Kenobi’s name. I’ve met him before, because he was on the Jedi High Council, but I don’t know him well. Among the padawans I studied with after Master Fisto chose me, he was idolized. And Ahsoka had an order from him?

“And I suppose it wasn’t so much to keep moving,” Rex continues, almost as if to himself, “as it was to stay in hiding and to survive.” He raises his voice, clearly addressing me again. “This is Ahsoka’s way of surviving.”

“Ahsoka knew Master Kenobi?” I ask, diverting the subject a little bit.

Rex chuckles, as if remembering something. “Oh, she knew him, all right. Her master was his former apprentice. When she showed up on Christophsis, he actually thought she would be his padawan.”

“You mean, the battle of Christophsis?” I confirm.

“That’s the one. She landed right after the first wave of droids backed off. Green as could be.” He smiles, reminiscing. “Everyone was a little confused when she announced she was Skywalker’s new apprentice, and not Kenobi’s.”

“She was assigned,” I say bluntly. “She wasn’t chosen.”

Rex looks up at me, an unreadable expression twisting his features. “Yes,” he says, drawing out the word as though he’s not entirely sure what I mean by that.

**Coruscant**

I breathed heavily. I had always enjoyed duels, but I was never known for being good with a lightsaber. I grinned at Donedi. The heat of her lightsaber--even at training strength--was intense right above the veins on my neck. She laughed and reached out to help me up. The crowd of padawans, knights, and younger initiates murmured. Weren’t we taking this seriously?

We were. But we also knew how to find joy in the little things. She wasn’t known for her skill with a lightsaber, either, and who won between the two of us was constantly alternating. We were both proud of her.

Then the crowd went silent, and we turned away from each other to see what the lack of fuss was about. A Nautolan master was coming down the steps. A jolt of anxiety went through me, and I felt it from her, as well. I knew laughing was not an ordinary response during an Initiate Trial, but to be reprimanded? In front of everyone? Why would a master do that?

“Niltaax--that is your name, right?”

I turned slightly to Donedi, who was looking at me with wide eyes, before turning back to the master and nodding slowly. His smile was reassuring, but my heart was still pounding so hard I was sure everyone in the chamber could hear it. “Y-yes, Master.”

He knelt in front of me, bringing him closer to my height. “I have seen you here before. You fight valiantly and are confident in the Force and in yourself. Would you do me the honor of becoming my Padawan?”

Suddenly the emotions I was feeling, whatever they were, became overwhelming. I wanted to say yes, but the word wouldn’t leave my mouth again. I nodded mutely, trying to smile to show that I didn’t intend to be disrespectful. I didn’t understand why this sometimes happened to me. I just… couldn’t always talk.

He seemed to understand, though, and he led me back out of the chamber. I looked back at Donedi, who was still staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

When we got to the halls, which were at this time far emptier than the rooms on the physical training levels of the Temple, he stopped and turned to me. “I am Jedi Master Kit Fisto,” he introduced himself.

I still didn’t respond verbally. I was trying to keep the tears inexplicably stinging my eyes from falling, lest he think I was upset. Rather, I offered my hand for him to shake.

Despite my inability to speak to him, his smile never wavered. He simply took my hand. “Master Yoda has told me that you do not always like to speak. Do not worry, young one. I will respect your silence when you need it.” If it was possible, his grin widened. “Perhaps using the Jedi hand signals will be easier for you sometimes. We will find out.”

His accent was, unsurprisingly, similar to Donedi’s. This made me more comfortable. It made him like a friend.

We spent many of our first days wandering the Temple together. I learned that Master Fisto seemed constantly happy. He was kind, gentle, always smiling. He found joy in all the little things.

I loved most the Temple observatory and the rooms with plants from hundreds, thousands of worlds.

“Constellations are different on other planets,” he said one evening. I had accidentally wandered away from him, and he found me--naturally--in the observatory. “Did you know that?”

I turned to him. “No, Master. But it makes sense. If we went to a different star system, that star would become the sun. Coruscant’s sun would become another star. Our entire perspective would shift.”

His smile widened. “Yes. Very good observation, Padawan.” I was still getting used to the title, but I felt a little of his joy every time Master Fisto said it. His gratitude for another student was palpable, even when our bond was still forming. “I’m sure your perspective has shifted since becoming an apprentice.”

I turned back away from him and to the star map I had been studying. “Maybe. Not as much as it would by traveling to another system, though.” I hid my smile by leaning closer to the map. “It’s easier to learn one-on-one with you than it was with my creche-mates.” I paused. I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging. It wasn’t that classes were easy for me, exactly. “I learn some things more easily than some of them do. I get bored going over the same thing over and over. I want to learn more.” I turned back to my master to see his ever-present smile gone. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant,” I added. “I’m behind them in many ways, too. I’m anxious and not very good at focusing or meditating. But those aren’t things we learn in our classes. Science, mathematics, languages--those all come easily to me, and maintaining focus on the same subject for too long is hard.”

He nodded, understanding flashing in his deep red eyes. “I see. Well, Padawan,” and his smile was back, “I cannot remove you from your classes with the others your age. You’ll still have a year studying with them. But I am glad you recognize that you struggle with things they do not, and vice versa. It shows me that you can be taught.” He came closer and put his arm around my shoulder. “I had hoped, when I saw your growth in your Initiate Trials, that you were learning and therefore had the humility for me to teach you.”

“I don’t think of myself as humble, Master,” I protested weakly. “My weaknesses frustrate me. I want to be perfect, sometimes. I know it’s not really possible. But it’s a concern I have. If I’m not perfect, then I’m not good enough.” I felt an emotion wash over him through the Force. I wasn’t sure what to call it. Fear? Worry? Anger? It wasn’t quite any of those. It wasn’t so dark. But it wasn’t a light emotion, either.

“I can tell you that you are good enough,” he finally said, “or even perfect, whenever I see it. But that may or may not help you. You have to be able to convince yourself, as well. That takes practice. But I understand what you are saying.”

When I looked up at him again, his smile was still there, and it was still genuine. I drew closer to him. Jedi were never much for physical affection or comfort, and I knew that applied to Master Fisto, but he never drew away from me, either. My personality was odd, sometimes, even to me, but he respected when I needed my space, when I needed silence, or when I needed comfort. I knew he cared deeply about me. I was starting to question the Jedi’s rules against attachment and how they could possibly make sense. Was this not attachment?

I would do anything to preserve this, for myself and for anyone else.


	7. Forgiveness

**Deep Space**

I wake up, chest heaving. Before our fight, Ahsoka lent me clean clothing to wear while we washed the things I’ve been in for five weeks, and already they are soaked through with sweat. I sit up, trying to gather my thoughts and catch my breath. Instead, I find myself choking back sobs. Wave after wave of fear and anguish crash over me, barely receding before I feel as though I’m drowning in the darkness again. I haven’t had a nightmare like this for several months, although they happened more often when I was in active combat than they did my first years as a padawan.

I tremble. I was pumped full of adrenaline by my body’s defense system; too bad it was only a nightmare. As the hormone drops back to normal levels in my blood, I have to fight the exhaustion creeping back in. I’m still uncomfortable, and I don’t want to sleep like this.

When I finally have some semblance of control over my breath, I start to take it deeper, trying to relax myself. In through my nose, out through my mouth, the same exercises Master Fisto taught me years ago.

Master Fisto. I don’t remember the details of the dream, not in the least, but in my heart I know I just witnessed his death. My brain is protecting me from the trauma of the memory, whether genuine or through the Force, but I know that’s what it was nonetheless. I have to bite back another sob and force myself to breathe again, this time focusing only on the rising and falling of my chest and abdomen. Not thinking of the person who taught this to me, not when the emotions are so close to the surface.

I swing my legs out of my bunk. I don’t want to go back to sleep, but I know it’s the best thing for me to do. Still… maybe tonight can be an exception.

I slip on my boots and the shawl Ahsoka offered me. My lightsaber is on the bureau, and instead of picking it up I simply reach out with the Force. When it’s clipped to my waistband--this outfit doesn’t come with a belt--I pad out the door and down the corridor.

I’m not sure where I’m going. I’m still forcibly fighting off exhaustion, afraid of what I might see if I close my eyes again tonight. I find my way to the bridge, where Rex is standing watch, and briefly I fascinate myself with the way the constellations look from the middle of space. All the stars look distant. I feel as though I could fly up to a field of them, fly through them, but that isn’t how stars work.

I don’t want to distract or startle Rex--the thought of him pulling his blaster on me while I’m in this state isn’t at all reassuring--so I move on, headed belowdecks. There’s a galley down here, and Ahsoka told me there are no rations. “Just help yourself whenever you’re hungry. Sometimes someone might actually cook a group meal, now that we have a group, but mostly we just eat when our bodies say we need to eat.” I consider it. I’ve always enjoyed food from all over the galaxy, sweet and savory and the weird in-between stuff that the residents of other planets have created, but when I think about eating my stomach twists into tight knots.

I move on past the galley, to the gym. Ships that people stay on for extended periods of time often have some sort of training area. There’s a blessing to the technology we currently have: we can turn on and off gravity on ships, strengthen it or weaken it depending on what species represents the majority and what planet they’re from. The muscle atrophy space travel was once known for, millennia ago before the hyperdrive and gravity devices were invented, are not a problem now. Still, occasionally there will be a ship of humans with one creature used to far stronger gravity, and always there are people who want to hone their strength and skills. Hence, the training area.

This one is particularly large, with plenty of open space, almost as though it was meant for Jedi to turn into a salle. I palm the door open and step inside. I’m hit by a wall of cool air, designed to help with homeostasis for most warm-blooded species as they train.

I don’t really know what to do, only that I feel comfortable here and that it’s away from everyone else, so I begin to stretch as though I’m going to practice. I haven’t practiced nearly at all in five weeks. My shoulder still aches, especially with sharp movement, and I know that the connecting and muscle tissues that were damaged by the blaster bolt haven’t healed completely. Really, I need bacta. But at least my shoulder doesn’t need to be wrapped anymore.

I stretch my left arm more gently than my right arm, and it doesn’t have the same range of motion, but any time is a good time to start fixing that. I unclip my lightsaber and watch it ignite, the yellow blade humming at me. It’s an extension of myself. My teachers in the creche taught me that, as did Master Fisto. I have to fight off tears thinking of him, and instead choose to move into a standard kata focusing on Soresu.

_Form III. Focused on defense, especially against blasters. Continuous movement. Calm._

The downside of this form is that I can’t stop moving. That’s supposed to be one of the ideal things about it, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like an ideal. For example, when I’m several weeks out of practice and out of shape and spent a good portion of the early night walking.

I work through the same kata again, over and over until it feels fluid and instinctual as it once did. Mastery. It was impressed on me constantly in my lightsaber training.

I don’t know how long I’ve been practicing before the door opens, only that I’m sweating again and have expended any leftover energy from the adrenaline rush earlier tonight. I drop my blade to my side and thumb it off, then turn to the door to greet whoever decided to come in. I’m panting, but I can feel myself smiling.

And then I feel the guilt.

“Ahsoka,” I say.

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Niltaax. Are you okay? You’ve been up for almost two hours.”

I knit my brow together. “How do you know that?”

Her smile is a little more genuine now. “I think Rex has eyes in the back of his head. He always knows. I got in trouble for so many pranks because of him while I was with Anakin.”

“So I’ve been down here for two hours?”

She shakes her head and comes further into the room, sitting down on the floor. I do the same. “No, you’ve probably only been down here for an hour and a half. Rex says you watched the stars out of the viewport for a long time.”

I do love stars. But I change the subject. “Ahsoka, listen,” I say. My voice is already straining against tears. I’ve never been good at handling guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she interjects, holding a hand up. “But if it helps, I forgive you. Rex and Aspect helped me realize that we were both right, and wrong, in our own ways. And Aspect told me you didn’t get the message I did from Master Kenobi. You upset me, sure, but I upset you, too. We’re okay.”

I give her a small, tight smile.

“So why have you been up so long? It’s only oh-six-hundred, standard time.”

“Nightmare,” I reply simply. “I’ve never been able to fall asleep after them. It used to worry my poor master half to death, because I’d have a dream about a prior mission and be up all night right as we were about to go into a new mission.” I don’t say what I’m thinking--that despite my struggles with sleep, especially around combat missions, I somehow outlived him. I don’t want or need to keep dwelling on this. If I knew how I would just move on.

Grief doesn’t work like that.

Ahsoka nods thoughtfully. Then, “Ever tried hot chocolate?”

“What?”

“Hot chocolate. It’s a sweet beverage. Master Skywalker used to keep some with him, and every time I had a nightmare, it would put me right to sleep.”

I huff out a breath of what might be laughter. “I’ve never tried hot chocolate, just different teas. I do like sweets, though. But if it’s oh-six-hundred, is it a good idea for me to try to go back to sleep?”

Ahsoka’s smile turns mischievous. “I’m here to keep you alive, not to enforce a proper sleep schedule.”

At this, I laugh out loud. “You’re an awful influence. Aspect and Rex aren’t going to die of artificial old age, they’re going to die of the stress of taking care of the two of us.”

She nods enthusiastically. “It’s more fun, don’t you think?”

“Really, I don’t think any version of them dying young is fun,” I point out. “But they might have fun following us into a sarlacc pit.”

Ahsoka eyes me more seriously before her face breaks into a huge grin. “You and I are going to get along very well, I think.” Then she gestures to my lightsaber. “Want to spar?”

I look down. “No, not right now. I think I worked too hard earlier.”

“Are you hurt?” She scoots closer to me, reaching out as if to touch me before pulling her hand back.

“Good question. What’s the answer to not make you worry?”

She gives me a look something like raising an eyebrow at me. “That wasn’t it,” she informs me. “What happened?”

“Blaster bolt got my shoulder and then I fell on it,” I explain shortly.

Her grimace almost makes me feel guilty again. “You fell.”

“That was after the blaster,” I say again. I don’t think I’m helping my case very much.

“You need bacta,” Ahsoka decides. “We have some in the medbay. It’s not much, compared to the destroyers we’re used to, but maybe it’ll help?”

I would probably cry out of relief after a couple rounds of bacta, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Worth a shot.”

She stands up and reaches out to help me to my feet. “It’s probably too late to do all the healing we want it to, but you’re right about it being worth a shot. In my opinion, it’s worth more than a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People at work are always impressed with my ability to type or use a ten-key while looking at something other than the keyboard. They should see me trying to fix some HTML details in the dark on a laptop. A lot less impressive.
> 
> I'm going to try to be consistent about updating every week? My problem is that I never outline (oops) so I have like, a lot of ideas for action chapters and no ideas how to connect them and make them flow. Also I started an Obitine fic in my head and now I'm having trouble with coming up with ideas for this fic so I might need to jot all that Obitine stuff down before I keep writing. The good news is I'm pretty sure I already have a couple chapters written out (I don't even keep track of that OOPS) so it shouldn't be a problem to update the next couple weeks? I mean not a whole lot of you seem super invested in this fic but I don't want to disappoint those of you who are bc I appreciate you very muchly.


	8. Landfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: "I'm going to update every Saturday, guys!"  
> Also me: *takes a month to write one chapter*
> 
> My internet went down right as I hit "post" on this and because the Archive doesn't automatically save I forgot what I originally put here (thank goodness I actually listened to Ao3 and put the story in a separate doc) but essentially I wanted the events of this chapter but was having a hard time writing the transitions and so it took a while to get it all down on the computer. But it is now and I'm pretty proud.
> 
> Excuse me while I cry about putting the HTML back in....

**Deep Space**

We’ve been together for a week, and settled into something of a routine.

Our first day as a crew, we played another, friendlier game of sabacc to determine watch shifts. Both Ahsoka and Rex were grateful to cut their shifts in half. We really only keep track of shifts when we should be sleeping, although everyone’s ability to do so is questionable at best. While everyone is awake, we all take care of each other. It’s instinctual.

My arm has been soaking in bacta for a few hours each day, and already the improvement is tremendous.

Although Ahsoka said we would probably spend most of our time eating whenever we chose, Rex and Aspect roped us into having late meal all together each night. It’s the most enjoyable part of my day, often followed by watching a holovid or playing a game of dejarik.

This routine is nice, but it’s so much more relaxed than what I’m used to.

We’re eating together when Rex says, “We need supplies.”

We all look up, ready to listen. “Like what?” Ahsoka prompts him.

“More food, for one thing. The fresh stuff only stays fresh for so long, and now we have a crew of four, rather than two.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “And more medical supplies. Bacta, painkillers, that sort of thing.”

Aspect puts down his fork and nods along. “It would be nice to have new clothes,” he tags on. “Something less recognizable than this armor.” He frowns down at the blue-and-white painted plates adorning his body. “I do love this armor, though.”

“Maybe we can find armor that can go under less conspicuous clothes,” I suggest.

“Good idea,” Ahsoka agrees. “And you two need nightclothes, too, don’t you?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I would appreciate something more comfortable than wool.”

“So it’s settled, then,” Rex says, sitting up straight again. “We’re going to get supplies.”

“Hang on,” I interject. “Where? How will we know it’s safe? How can we avoid being recognized? I think there’s more to this than agreeing we need supplies and then going to get supplies.”

Everyone cocks their heads at me, and I shrink back, my cheeks flushing.

“All valid questions,” Rex finally says. “We’re near an inhabited planet called Akiva. Obviously, it’s an Outer Rim planet, so I don’t know if the Empire is out here yet. But I don’t want to take any risks, which is why Aspect and I are staying on the ship. You two,” he adds, gesturing at Ahsoka and me, “will take our blasters. You will _not_ keep your lightsabers with you. I know you probably don’t like that but I can’t risk you being recognized if the Empire is here.” His expression turns soft when he looks at Ahsoka. “I can’t risk losing you two.” He almost says the last part as if he means “you, too”, and maybe some part of him does.

I turn to Ahsoka, who looks at me in the same moment, and then we both unclip our lightsabers and place them on the table.

“Okay,” Ahsoka says. “We’ll do it.”

:::

**Akiva**

I feel badly for Ahsoka. She’s wearing a thick cloak, hood pulled up over her montrals, trying to hide the fact that she’s Togrutan on a planet too hot and humid to wear more than one or two thin layers. Rex reasoned to us that thick cloaks could keep sweat from evaporating. I shot back that that was an issue in deserts, not jungles. Rex just shrugged and tossed Ahsoka the cloak, which she put on with a frown.

The upside of the cloak is that it hides the commlink she’s wearing on her wrist.

“The capital city is Myrra,” Rex’s voice says over the link. “You should be able to speak Basic to the locals there.”

Ahsoka smiles at me, her piercing blue eyes making brief contact with mine before I turn away. “I like being able to speak Basic,” she laughs.

“I won’t fight you on that.” Basic is probably going to be the most comfortable thing about this… trip? Mission? Not mission. That’s one of the uncomfortable things.

Another is the holster strapped around my waist, a secondary strap attached to my thigh. It’s loose, designed to fit Aspect when in full armor. I’m not small but I’m not “Aspect in full armor” big, either. The blaster’s weight is bouncing just slightly against my upper leg and hip. And it’s not my lightsaber.

It’s only a kilometer from the site where we landed the shuttle to the outskirts of Myrra, but the walk is hot and tedious and I’m already feeling antsy.

“You look out of place because you feel out of place,” Ahsoka points out as we near the outskirts of the city, which is only marginally helpful because I _am_ out of place.

Still, I turn to her, square my shoulders, and think _I belong here_ like it’s a mantra.

“Better.”

Once in the city, my senses are inundated with things. I’ve always been particularly susceptible to this; the sights, smells, and sounds, the talking and the people brushing against me always ended with a panicking child and a poor Master Fisto wondering why he let me out into the streets of Coruscant again.

Ahsoka seems to notice as I force my breath to slow and deepen. Across the Force, a bond forming that I hadn’t even noticed, she sends a wave of reassurance, and I give her my gratitude in turn.

Like all galactic capitals, the city’s purpose is obvious but its layout and presence are unique. Myrra is sprawling, with _lots of small buildings_ rather than _a few tall buildings_. It seems that the main street is the market; vendors of every shape, size, and species line the walkways, shouting about their fruits, vegetables, and bizarre animal stews. The only one I recognize is nerf.

A jogan fruit vendor near the entrance to the street, a Trandoshan with a leering smile, waves us over. “Pretty ladiessss, pretty ladiessss,” he hisses, “would you like to buy a jogan fruit?”

There’s something about him that makes me uncomfortable, but his jogan stock looks well picked through and that somehow makes me trust him. “How much for two?” I ask.

“How much do you hhhhhave?” he shoots back.

So he wants to barter, then.

“Hopefully enough for two,” I reply, coming closer to the stand. I feel Ahsoka’s gaze on me, feel the question in it. _Are you sure you know what you’re doing?_

The Trandoshan gives me a long-suffering look, and I refuse to let the smile bubbling up show on my face. He supposed we’re travelers from somewhere else on the planet, not Jedi who know how to negotiate, though he doesn’t need to know that.

“Yessss, I do hhhhope sssso. One fruit, five Republic creditssss.”

Republic credits. So the Empire isn’t in control here yet. Good to know. I notice that he hasn’t actually told me how much for _two_. He’s expecting me to pay the ten credits without thinking too hard about it, but Jedi and clone troopers never exactly got paid and so money is tighter even than it might be for some farmers. “Any specials for two jogans?”

His eyes narrow, but he pulls out a little sign from behind the fruit stand. “Eight creditssss for two fruitssss,” he says, pointing to the second line of the sign.

It’s still not cheap, considering the fact that jogan fruit probably grows on this planet. It likes warm environments, and thrives in the humidity, although dryer planets are absolutely capable of growing jogans too. It’s everywhere, and he wants us to pay eight credits for two?

“You know,” Ahsoka says, stepping in, “we’re planet-hoppers. We could probably get a price like that for four in the next system. What do you say, Resh?” she adds, turning to me.

“Absolutely.” If the next system was safe enough for us. “All we need to do is find some fuel in town and we can go if we need to.”

The Trandoshan grumbles something and says, “Two fruitssss for five creditssss. That’ssss my ffffinal offer.”

“I suppose I’ll take it,” Ahsoka agrees, feigning reluctance. She digs for the coin pouch Rex gave her and drops the credits into the Trandoshan’s hand.

In return, he hands us a mesh bag with two fruits inside it and waves us down the road. “I hhhhope to ssssee you again ssssoon, pretty ladiessss.”

“Thank you.” I realize I don’t know what to do with the bag except hold it, because we didn’t bring larger bags to carry everything in. If we didn’t find someone selling, we were going to regret this.

As we continue down the street, I don’t turn to look when I realize there’s someone following us, just reach out and tap Ahsoka’s arm. She nods.

It’s the Trandoshan from the market entrance. His presence in the Force is sinister and remarkably unique for someone I don’t know. He has friends—I sense them following us, following him, surrounding us.

“Well, this should be fun,” Ahsoka says quietly.

The gang must be pretty notorious in this part of Myrra, because people are turning away from us as we draw near, unable (or unwilling) to help. I fight the urge to reach for my holster. I won’t give these less-than-gentlemen the satisfaction of seeing my anxiety.

I sense, rather than see, Ahsoka’s eyes scanning either side of the main road, looking for a shop or an inn that we can enter and get away from the danger. I do the same, although her eyes are probably much stronger than mine.

We’re nearing a T-junction, which will severely limit our options for “not drawing attention”, when a door opens to the right.

“In here!”

I don’t have to be hissed at twice. Something about this being’s Force presence is familiar and I trust it immediately. I tug on the hem of Ahsoka’s cloak once and turn toward the door, walking with a Purpose like my master once taught me.

The door closes behind us and I hear the locking mechanism click into place. I appreciate that the Trandoshans can’t get in now, but I realize that we can’t get out. Still, the familiar presence is right here, and I think I prefer being stuck in this dark hut to the road right now.

My eyes are still adjusting, so I don’t see what’s going on or who’s speaking when I hear, “How are you alive?”

I don’t say anything. How are we alive? Why wouldn’t—well, I don’t think too much about that, but I doubt anyone on Akiva knows about the order yet.

“Hey, nerf stew for brains! I’m talking to you!”

And, well, I’ve only known one person in my entire life who says “nerf stew for brains”.

“Tu’ebb,” I breathe, and fall into his arms more easily than I would have even when he was my only friend in the créche.

“Yeah, it’s me. You plan on answering my question this cycle?”

Ahsoka answers for me. “Our captains saved us.” Short, simple, to the point. And she doesn’t make me speak while I’m fighting down the swell of emotion of seeing Tu’ebb again.

I feel his master’s bewildered gaze on me. She never seemed to dislike me, but I’m not sure she ever truly liked me, either. She was steady, constantly releasing her emotions into the Force like a _good Jedi_ , and I was too...the opposite. But she doesn’t seem disapproving right now. In fact, her signature aches for the comfort Tu’ebb is now giving me, and I wonder if she felt it as the other Jedi—I stop myself from thinking again.

Although I am far more comfortable with physical affection than I was two standard months ago, there’s still something strange about giving and receiving it with my little crew that I don’t feel here with my oldest friend. A Theelin with bronzy skin, he was always a bright spot for me both figuratively and literally. Except now, in this dark room where I’ve come to the realization that my vision won’t be adjusting.

On cue, Tu’ebb says “We don’t have power.” His voice is too proud and I can almost hear his smile.

“Master Fait, would you please elaborate?” I ask, my voice unsteadier than I would like.

I see the vague outline of the Q’ltane woman nodding her head. “Our mission is--was--highly classified. I still do not wish to discuss it openly with anyone but young Tu’ebb.”

His body stiffens against mine, and I understand--though we are all physically young, we spent our adolescence as commanders in a war. We grew up a long time ago.

“As such, the Jedi Council did not want us to draw attention to ourselves, and encouraged us to go without power whenever possible if we were planetside.” She makes a strange sound, then concludes, “Now that the Council is gone, there is no way to pay for power even if we did want it. Not without running out of money for food.”

“I told you, Master,” Tu’ebb disagrees, “I can get a job. I can keep my lightsaber here with you. No Force tricks, just working to earn a keep.”

“And what will you say when they ask why we are here and how we got here? No, Padawan. We have had this discussion.”

I don’t have to say anything. I untangle myself from Tu’ebb’s arms and Ahsoka tosses me the bag of credits. “You can make something up,” I suggest as I start counting. Unfortunately, I’m counting by feel rather than by sight and can only hope my math is accurate. For a moment, I envy the fact that the three others in this room can actually see in the dark. “As Jedi, we’ve done this before. Master Fisto and I used to practice by creating different personas for each other and telling their backstories. Whoever’s story stopped making sense first lost and had to make tea.”

Tu’ebb sits next to me and pulls the coin purse out of my hands. “You can’t even see. You just added a five-credit piece to your one-credit stack.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t have power,” I counter, knocking my shoulder into his.

His smile is clear in his voice. “My name will be Onaconda Farr,” he begins.

I can feel Master Fait’s disapproval, but Ahsoka sits across from us and joins in on the story-telling. “You can’t use a Senator’s name,” she says. “It’s too obvious. How about Dunuri Shavar?”

“Ahsoka is the master of coming up with fake names,” I say to Tu’ebb before he can protest. “When we had our first run-in with that Trandoshan, she called me Resh. Didn’t even have to think about it.”

“Okay,” Tu’ebb says, reluctant to let the lofty Senator’s name go. I know he was joking, but it was a bad one. “Dunuri Shavar. I can be your ward, Master.”

Master Fait sighs. “Tell me Dunuri Shavar’s backstory and we shall see.”

Tu’ebb spins a dramatic tale of orphanage, being saved by Master Fait (whom he has named, in poor taste, Mon Mothma), and planet-hopping until the Empire shot their ship over Akiva. They crash-landed a few kilometers from Myrra and although they are okay and need no medical help, their ship was destroyed and they have nothing. In order to pay back “Mon Mothma” for rescuing him and taking him as her ward, Dunuri Shavar needs to earn money to help them live in Myrra.

“Instead of calling her Mon Mothma--who is still _alive_ , I might add,” Ahsoka teases, “call Master Fait ‘Ellehal Branwar’.”

“So neither of us can be famous?” Tu’ebb whines, and I assume Ahsoka responds by smacking him because he yelps and she laughs.

“Okay, Padawans,” Master Fait interjects, “the fun is over. I simply do not think this is a good idea.”

“It was a good story,” I point out. “He didn’t have to backtrack or correct himself once.”

“Can I at least try, Master?” he begs. “If for some reason it doesn’t work out and someone catches on, we’ll leave Myrra immediately and find somewhere else to lie low.”

There is a long moment of silence in which Master Fait seems to be deliberating, but finally she says, “Fine, Padawan, but know that I do not have a good feeling about this at all.”

Tu’ebb cheers and dumps a handful of credits into my lap. I forgot he was counting them, but it seems to be about two thirds of what we originally had.

“We’re going shopping, Master,” he says abruptly, rising and pulling me to my feet, then turning to Ahsoka and helping her up as well. “There’s enough here to get us through the next week if we’re careful, and they came here for supplies.”

I’m grateful that I’m still able to communicate silently with him like this that he knows I meant for him to take the money despite how close we’ll be cutting it, especially because as we walk out in the open where it’s dangerous to talk about Jedi and clones, we simply speak over our old clan bond about the important things while we talk out loud about food and clothing and remembering to purchase a bag or two.

“This meiloorun is a little soft. Do you want another one, Resh?”

_I’ll find a way to get credits to you._

“Hey, Dunuri, I think that shirt would look just lovely on me.”

_How can we keep in touch? I need to know you’re safe._

“Bel, do we need drinking water?”

_Be safe and stay alive. If nothing else, for me._

:::

Arms laden with bags of provisions and clothing, Ahsoka and I make the kilometer walk back to the shuttle.

“You think this thing has vaporators?” I joke. I ascend the ramp into the cool metallic beast and drop my load to wipe the sweat off my face. “Just this planet’s air could provide showers for all four of us for a year, I bet.”

Ahsoka smiles but says nothing, only sighing in relief when she removes her cloak. I’m surprised at how welcome the sight of her montrals is. Although I hardly notice them, it was weird that they were hidden beneath the thick wooly fabric.

“Maybe the whole galaxy,” I add to myself,only half-joking. Even inside the shuttle, where it’s cool, the air is damp and uncomfortable.

Ahsoka leaves me in the main compartment and goes into the cockpit. “I doubt that this shuttle has vaporators,” she finally says, “but we’ll probably end up taking some of this humidity with us and I know the freighter does.”

I smile to myself and look forward to an actual shower and some nice, clean, not-obviously-Jedi clothes.


	9. Hope

**Hyperspace**

I took first watch tonight, and even though Ahsoka relieved me three hours ago, and Rex relieved her two hours after that, I’m still wandering the ship, awake.

I did try to sleep. I just didn’t _actually_ sleep. I got out of bed after an hour of tossing and turning.

I run my hand along the bulkhead, following the corridors I now know like the back of my hand. Galley, salle, armory, janitorial closet, and the hatch to the cargo hold we rarely use, then back again. Up the hatch onto the main deck. Behind me are the cabins; in front of me, the bridge.

 _Well, at the very least Rex is awake_ , I think, and palm open the door to the bridge.

“You’re not supposed to relieve me for another--oh, it’s you.” Rex swivels slowly in his chair and raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing here? Your shift was over hours ago.”

“Can’t sleep.” I shrug and sit next to him. “Didn’t know where else to go.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” he tells me confidently.

“Are you going to try to get me to fall asleep?” I ask.

“No, of course not. I’m just going to make sure you aren’t bored while you’re awake. Every soldier has times where he can’t sleep. You aren’t any different.”

I try to ignore him calling me a soldier. I subscribe to the belief that the Jedi are meant to be peacekeepers; I fought in the Clone War because I was asked to, not because I wanted to. Still, I watch him with interest when he stands up and crosses to the communal living space with the dejarik table and folding card table, the one where we often eat together. “Is it possible not to be bored when you’re awake in the middle of the night?”

He turns on the dejarik board and turns back to me. “Not if you sit all the way over there when the game is over here.”

I smile and shake my head. “I don’t know what we would do without you, Rex.”

“I don’t know what you--” He’s interrupted by a beeping coming from the console. “Kriff,” he mumbles. “Drop us out of hyperspace. Now. We’re about to hit something.”

“The console couldn’t have told us that earlier?” My voice shakes. I’ve never been good at hiding the anxiety I feel when I feel it. Still, I look at the controls and shake my head. “They should really label these,” I grumble. I find the controls that take us into and out of hyperspace and pull out.

Dropping out of hyperspace is never comfortable, especially when you’re not planning on it. The inertia forces you forward and if you aren’t strapped in, you inevitably fall. Even Jedi. I drop out of my chair and land, hard, on the metal deck.

“What was that?” Ahsoka’s groggy voice asks over the comm.

“Something in the middle of the hyperspace lane.” I look out the viewport. “Something… Republic?”

There’s a pause on the comm, and then two distinct voices tell us, “I’m coming.”

I get as close to the viewport as I can. Deep space is a stark contrast to hyperspace--the stars are suddenly still, everything feels slow even though we’re still moving at a high speed compared to what’s possible on planets.

Brakes don’t really work in hyperspace or deep space. It’s one of those laws of motion that I wish didn’t exist. Hurtling toward another ship at an unknown speed is terrifying no matter how often you do it.

“You’re right,” Rex says as we move closer to the other object. “That’s a Republic ship.”

The doors open behind us, and Ahsoka and Aspect are both standing there, half in nightclothes and half ready for battle.

“Not just a Republic ship,” Ahsoka disagrees. “It’s a Jedi MediCorps ship.”

I look out the viewport once more, and find that Ahsoka is right. It is a MediCorps ship, and it looks surprisingly intact.

“We’re going,” I say, taking no thought for such frivolous things as _safety_ or _not drawing attention_.

Rex calls me out immediately. “Oh, we are, are we?” He shares a look with Aspect. “Weren’t you the one who said we shouldn’t look for supplies without a plan?”

I shrink back, cheeks burning. He’s right, of course. We can’t just launch ourselves at every Corps ship and planet we come across. Most of them are bound to be crawling with Inquisitors or other Imperials (the words still burn in my heart) and as much as I want to find other Jedi, the chances of anyone else surviving are slim to none. Most of Rex and Aspects’ batchmates had died in the war, and the rest were either with the 501st or our own battalion--removing their chips wouldn’t have saved their Jedi when there were no other Jedi to be saved. Tu’ebb and Master Fait survived, of course, but that was because not even their own captain knew where they were at the time of the order. And a MediCorps ship was probably full of clone troopers who would have turned on the healers who were with them when the order was given, if Rex and Aspect have a proper understanding of those awful chips.

But Ahsoka comes to my rescue. “Scan the ship for life, Captain.” With no GAR protocol to concern ourselves with, words like _captain_ , _commander_ , and _sir_ are rare on our light freighter. She means business. “If there’s nothing, then we don’t need a plan because there will be no one to arrest us for pilfering medical supplies. If there’s something, then we come up with a Plan Aurek and a Plan Besh. We’ll make sure none of us gets hurt.”

I give Ahsoka a grateful look, unable to explain out loud the way I feel about this ship. There’s something good about it.

“You’re hoping for hope,” Aspect says softly from behind me, and I’m unsurprised when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

It was something Master Fisto used to say to us a lot, especially after Nahdar died. Sometimes, especially in war, there was little for us to hope for. We lost men, we lost battles, we lost planets, and sometimes we lost civilians. The war before Order 66, and the galaxy since then, are equally dark in my mind but in vastly different ways. And in the midst of all this, there were--still are--days when all we could hope for was something physical to hope for. Hoping for hope.

“Yeah,” I murmur, almost more to myself than to him. “I’m hoping for hope. Have been since I was fourteen.”

His firm hand drags me back toward him, turns me around, and then both are on my arms. He has me so close I can see the tears in his eyes. They never seem to leave nowadays. “We’ll find it. That’s what we do.”

“Hate to break up the moment,” Rex interrupts, “but there are lifeforms on that ship. So, Ahsoka, do you have a plan?”

Ahsoka looks at me, though, and I nod. “We could shut down all power and float, then launch the shuttle and dock with the ship. Jedi MediCorps ships never use clearance codes. They’ll take anyone who needs help. We dock, we’re careful, and unless we get shot at we ask questions first. There could be people who need us on that vessel and we’re not going to make things worse for them.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and look into Rex’s eyes--brown like Aspect’s, hard like Ahsoka’s, and hopeful like Master Fisto’s--and after a moment of mulling it over, he nods.

“Good plan, kid. A little vague, but that means we can think on our feet if we need to and no one will be trapped by inflexibility.”

“Should someone stay with the freighter?” Ahsoka asks.

Aspect shakes his head. “Ordinarily, yes, but we’re small in number and our scanner doesn’t detect number of lifeforms or location, only whether or not they’re there. We may need all our manpower.”

Ahsoka nods, then turns on her heel and heads down the corridor back to the cabins. None of us are really dressed for battle; we all follow her.

My lightsaber sits on the nightstand in my cabin. Its weight a comfort, I look forward to having a reason to have it clipped to my belt again. I exchange my nightshirt for a tunic with burnt hems where there were once sleeves, the silky pants for tighter, more elastic trousers. _Form III, Soresu. Constant movement_. I tie an obi around my waist, then wrap my belt over it, and finally I can wear my lightsaber again.

Master Fisto once said its faint golden glow is associated only with Temple Guards; he was at a loss for how such a color chose me. Here, getting ready to defend but not to attack for the first time in many years, a fierceness in my heart that I haven’t felt even at my Master’s side, I think I’m beginning to understand why.

As I leave my cabin, Ahsoka is leaving hers, and she stares at my shoulders for a moment. “Do I want to know?” she asks.

“First Battle of Geonosis,” Aspect explains, coming out of his own cabin in full armor. “She couldn’t move as well as she would like. When she found out she was going to be a commander and she would have to keep fighting battles, she brought both of her tunics out and cut the sleeves off with her lightsaber. The edges were a little uneven so our medic hemmed them for her. When she grew and got new clothes we kept doing this.”

“There was one tunic we had to replace because the troopers wanted to see if they could blast the sleeves off and instead they set the whole thing on fire.” I grin at Aspect, neglecting to mention that he was both the one who suggested blasting the sleeves off and the one who aimed a little oddly and started the flames.

He glares at me before turning toward the ladder that will allow us up to the shuttle.

“What about Rex?” I ask.

“Ah, he’ll be here,” Aspect tells me. “He was always fastest about putting on his armor. He’s probably turning off power.”

On cue, the lights shut down and the constant humming I’ve grown accustomed to stops. Heavy footsteps echo through the corridor when Rex jogs up to meet us. “What are you waiting for, _jet’ike_?” he teases, and leaps partway up the ladder.

“He’s way too happy about this,” I mutter to Ahsoka.

“He likes action.” She shrugs and follows the clones up into the shuttle, and then I have to follow them because it was my plan and if I don’t Rex and Aspect will tease me for the next standard year.

The shuttle is a little more cramped than the common area of the light freighter, despite the fact that on the freighter _common area_ is the same as _bridge or cockpit_. Ahsoka takes the controls and Aspect sits in the copilot’s seat, leaving Rex and me to strap into seats in the small chamber behind the cockpit. We detach from the freighter and turn toward the MediCorps ship. Ahsoka knows exactly where all of the docking ports are on the vessel; every MediCorps ship is shaped the same way and we studied them when we learned about the Corps as initiates.

Ahsoka chooses a docking port close to the bow of the ship and is careful about turning the shuttle the right way. In zero gravity, and especially in a vacuum, most movements are enhanced by the lack of forces working to alter them. It’s the smoothest docking I’ve ever experienced, although I notice it pushes the MediCorps ship a little bit.

“It’s powered down,” I say. “There are lifeforms aboard?”

“I left a homing beacon on the freighter in case we started floating away,” Rex says, assuaging one of my fears.

Ahsoka answers the other. “I feel people strong in the Force. There is life here.”

“We’d better get them off soon, then.” Aspect unstraps himself from the copilot’s seat and moves to the back of the shuttle to open our door.

On the MediCorps ship, I’m better able to sense what Ahsoka sensed. Muddled and intermingling, I can’t count the number of Force-sensitives aboard, but they are here and they are bright.

Aspect and Rex turn on their headlamps to peer into the darkness. “Nothing here, sir,” Rex says, and I feel his Force-signature flinch at the word, but it comes so naturally when they’re in full armor and we’re in Jedi garb.

“We’ll keep going, then.” Igniting my lightsaber, I step ahead of the others to lead the way.

At the first junction, we stop, trying to decide where to go. It’s important to get anyone off the ship if it has no power, because that means eventually the life-support systems will die, but we also need medical supplies and we may need the medical supplies _for_ the others here.

Ahsoka makes the decision for us. I turn to ask for opinions on our next course of action and I see her eyes widen, pupils dilate, lekku twitch. She clips her lightsaber back to her belt and her lips curve upward, just barely, and the rest of her body relaxes. “They’re okay,” she breathes, and runs straight on without us.

Aspect groans. “Are all Jedi so reckless?”

Rex’s voice carries the amusement of long-abandoned memory. “Only the good ones,” he says, and claps my shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to attempt to make up for the chapters I missed over the last few weeks, and I have a lot of time off this week, so the next chapter will probably be up soon and let me tell you, I'm looking forward to that and a couple more I have coming up.
> 
> For those who aren't completely obsessed with Mando'a, and I must admit that I have gone from "accidentally learning it" to "absolutely intentionally learning it", _jet'ike_ translates to "little Jedi". Rex is using it as a play on words--it's both the affectionate 'ika suffix and a way of calling them "Padawans".


	10. The Younglings

**Jedi MediCorps Ship, Deep Space**

When I sense no danger, the three of us follow Ahsoka at a steady clip. We’re not running, because we don’t have to, but we’re definitely trying to get to her sooner rather than later.

We get to a T-junction at the end of the corridor and in front of us is the door to one of many medbays. Rex palms it open.

The Force hits me in a way the Force rarely does.

I gasp and step backward, fighting tears of joy and hope and lightness. I know I’ve startled Aspect, so I wave him off and nod at him, trying to tell him without speaking that I’m okay. I’m not sure if he believes me, but he follows Rex into the medbay and after a moment I’ve gathered myself enough to make my way in as well.

It’s not a small room, but it wasn’t designed for the six cots that have been dragged into it. They’re lined up so close to each other that they almost look like two large beds instead of two rows of three small ones. They cover several of the cabinets that line the walls. In one far cot lies a Wookiee, and Ahsoka is standing over him almost as if in a healing meditation. In the cot next to him is a little Tholothian girl, holding one of his hands and stroking his fur.

Seated on the opposite row of cots are a human boy, an Ithorian, a Nautolan who reminds me of my Master and of my best friend, and a Rodian girl.

These four turn to us, and I hear a small, collective gasp of fear. The human stands up and moves to the front of the little line of younglings, as if protecting them. Then I see his hand at his hip and I realize he is protecting them. _The armor_ , I think, and whisper, “Buckets,” to the clone troopers beside me. They both remove their helmets, tucking them under their right arms.

“It’s all right,” Ahsoka says, not looking up from her… patient? “I know they look like the other clone troopers, but they’re my friends. That’s Rex and Aspect, and beside them is Niltaax. She’s another Jedi.”

The human moves his hand away from his lightsaber, but doesn’t back down or look away. He glares up into Aspect’s eyes.

“Petro, I promise.”

After a moment more, the human turns away and moves to sit back down on the cots, next to the Rodian girl. The Ithorian doesn’t really take an eye off us at any point, but after confirmation from Ahsoka that we wouldn’t do anything to harm them, the little Nautolan turns back to a datapad I didn’t even realize he was holding until now. I fight the little smile threatening to grace my features.

The Tholothian girl didn’t even look at us. She continues stroking the Wookiee’s fur, speaking in low tones and occasionally explaining something to Ahsoka.

Aspect, Rex, and I stand together awkwardly for a minute or two, before Rex says, “We’ll go… look for supplies to take back to the ship, if that’s okay.” He doesn’t really wait for a response before brushing past Aspect and me and replacing his helmet. “Er, meet us at the docking port in one standard hour.”

Aspect turns to follow Rex and puts his helmet on, too. As soon as Rex and Aspect leave, the weight in the room lifts from my shoulders. The Nautolan refocuses on his datapad, and I realize that even when he wasn’t looking at the clones he was watching them.

The immediate stressor is gone, but the underlying anxiety from the younglings bleeds into the Force.

Ahsoka still hasn’t looked up from the Wookiee, so I shrug to myself and try to find a place where I can fit on the cots with the other children. They make room for me automatically.

“You’re Petro,” I say to the human boy, soft, inviting an answer.

He nods. His eyes are still steely.

“But I don’t know the rest of your names.”

The four look at each other, uncertainty radiating from them, but the Ithorian is the first to speak. His name is Byph, and he wants to know if he can really trust Rex and Aspect.

I almost don’t want to know why he has to ask that question.

“Aspect saved my life,” I explain. “Even when the other clone troopers….” I trail off. It’s not like _tried to kill me_ is going to be reassuring to them in any way. “When they couldn’t, he always protected me. And Rex is one of Ahsoka’s best friends.”

Byph lowers his head in what appears to be a nod, although a lot of Ithorian nonverbal communication involves movement of the head and I can’t be entirely certain he’s actually nodding. But then he pokes at the Rodian girl playfully, and I realize that must have been a satisfactory enough answer for him.

The Rodian bats Byph’s hands away, but her eyes are twinkling when she turns to me. “I’m Ganodi.” She twitches her ears. “How did you find us?”

I had not intended for introductions to turn into a question and answer session, but now they have and there isn’t much I can do about it. “You’re kind of right in the middle of a hyperspace lane,” I point out. The younglings exchange glances. “Did you not know that?”

There’s some muttering, and Petro says something a little louder that sounds like _Of course they left us here_. Their stress and anxiety start to filter out into the Force again.

I make a show of breathing deeply once, then twice. By the fourth breath, Ganodi and Byph are following along; by the eighth, Petro’s eyes and jaw have relaxed and he seems almost ready to slip into a meditation or sleep.

“Who left you here?” I ask softly, not wanting to startle them out of their newfound calm.

“The clones,” the Nautolan says bitterly. He’s set his datapad down and has engaged fully, and he reminds me more of Master Fisto than ever.

“It’s not their fault, Zatt,” the Tholothian insists from her position by the Wookiee, though she doesn’t look up.

“How can you say that, Katooni?” Petro spits, though I get the impression he’s not angry. Just afraid. “All of them were in on it!”

“Something took them over,” the Tholothian--Katooni--disagrees. “It was too perfect. Maybe it was like those bugs from Geonosis!”

Ahsoka has yet to look up from the Wookiee, but I swear I see a tear slip past her lashes when she shakes her head. “I think you’re right that something took them over,” she explains to Katooni, “but I don’t think it was anything like the bugs from Geonosis.”

“But it wasn’t their fault, right?”

“They still turned on us!” But Zatt seems unconvinced by his own words now. I’m sure he can sense, better than anyone else, Katooni’s absolute conviction.

“What happened?” I ask, interrupting the debate.

Petro takes in a deep breath, but Byph speaks first. They were learning about the MediCorps, because it’s important for all Initiates to learn about the Jedi Corps. They went on a field trip to a MediCorps ship and were taking a tour and learning about healing trances and medications and exactly how a bacta tank works--

“And then they all woke up,” Petro interrupts. “They all stood up at the same time.”

“It was weird,” Zatt says. His eyes go wide and his head-tentacles stiffen a little. “It was even more precise than when they march.”

I nod along. “That’s pretty impressive. I’ve seen them march a lot.” Drills were a pretty common way to pass the time on Coruscant, or really anywhere there wasn’t an active campaign, and my troops liked to show off to Master Fisto and me. “It took me a long time to find any imperfections.”

Byph grumbles that _he_ was talking and he would like to continue telling his story. They all got up at the same time, but most of them didn’t have weapons because it was a medical facility, so they started finding other ways to hurt the Jedi.

At this point, it seems Byph doesn’t want to talk anymore, but no one interrupts him this time. I let them think about their words and process their emotions. It’s silent for several minutes.

“They killed everyone,” Katooni finally says. She lets go of the Wookiee’s hand and slips off the side of the cot. “They didn’t even have weapons and they killed _everyone_. We only survived because Gungi and Petro got us into the ventilation shafts while no one was looking.” Her breath hitches, and I open my arm out to her. She stops short of launching herself into my side, but climbs up onto our cot and curls up close to me. Her voice is barely more than a whisper when she finally says, “They took every single escape pod and left.”

Petro interrupts her, his jaw tight and brows furrowed. “We couldn’t do a funeral pyre,” he says, and his tone is more reverent than I would have expected from an eleven-year-old--but I get the feeling that these little ones will surprise me daily after everything they’ve been through. “We… we took all the bodies to the airlock.” He doesn’t finish, really, but he doesn’t need to finish. By the end, he’s reaching out to me, and I pull him close on my other side. He makes his way around to Katooni, though, and their combined weight against my side has me leaning uncomfortably the other way.

I beckon to Byph, Zatt, and Ganodi, who all force themselves against me until I’m completely surrounded by the warmth of the younglings. It is then that Ahsoka finally looks up, pulling the Wookiee, whom I assume is Gungi, to sitting. Her face softens when she sees us, and she helps Gungi over. I have yet to learn how he was injured, although if I have to guess I’d say it has something to do with the ventilation shafts.

We stay in that position, holding each other close, for the rest of the hour, and then I urge the younglings to get up. “You’re going to come to our ship with us, and we’re going to keep you safe.”

“Rex and Aspect, too?” Katooni asks. She blinks up at me blearily, and I realize she must have fallen asleep.

“They will keep you safe. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you guessed it but just in case, I will be adding character tags next chapter so as not to spoil anything for anyone. But yes of course I found a way to incorporate everyone's favorite children into my post-Order-66 fic and no I do not have any regrets, just lots of ideas for both fluff and angst.


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